


Come and See

by VoidTiger



Category: Original Work
Genre: Biblical fiction, Gen, Original work - Freeform, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-08 11:39:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18622576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoidTiger/pseuds/VoidTiger
Summary: “He’s from Nazareth. How good can he be?”Despite you also being from GalileeWith a heart beating after purityWell, come and see





	Come and See

Come, and see

I saw you sitting there, thoughtfully in prayer

Overlooking the town on that hillside bare

Underneath a shading tree

 

“He’s from Nazareth. How good can he be?”

Despite you also being from Galilee

With a heart beating after purity

Well, come and see

 

“Teacher, where do you sleep?”

“What do you eat?”

All these questions to “Follow me.”

Again, I say. Come and see

 

See as I teach fools to view with hearts and minds

And open the literal eyes of the dead and blind

Yet still you rebuke me with your raging lies and wounded pride

Have I ever stirred insurrection, or been unkind?

 

Come and see.

 

Come and follow in the steps I tread

Watch me breathe new life into souls long thought dead

Tell John you witnessed the poor healed while demons fled

Yet you clamor for a stone to crush my head?

 

You all came to see

A peasant king’s parade

Impromptu, and with palms paved

Formed around a man riding on a donkey

 

Yet now you will not come

When I’m crowned not with gold, but thorns

And robed not with silk, but flesh torn

Stripped naked down to bleeding bones

 

But, surely, you’ll see

That I knew the price all along

I counted it before ever traveling so far from home

Paid in full while my sweat and tears watered Gethsemane

 

Come, and see

A Galilean, on a hill

Breathing his last prayer, before falling still

Hanging underneath the shadow of his tree

 

Did I not say death could be overcome?

That my life is my own, given freely

And if given freely, it revives the weary?

Rising again blameless by the third day’s dawn?

 

And did you not hear me foresee

How all this would happen as it did

Did you not read what the prophets recorded

As they recounted the Tale of the Suffering, Servant King?

 

They all came to see.

But did it help them believe?

**Author's Note:**

> Welp. I wrote this last year for Easter. And since facebook claims "ownership" over everything you ever post EVER...guess I'll subject y'all to my bad poetry, here. I meant to transfer this last week during Easter Weekend, but, well. Y'know. Life happened (including getting called in to work Easter Sunday last minute. But hey, at least my boss owes me free food now!)  
> Lemme know in the comments if you'd like to read more stuff like this! :)


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